


It is not surprising that the lambs should bear a grudge against the great birds of prey

by seriousfic



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Accidental Incest, Accidental Voyeurism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Cunnilingus, F/F, Fingerfucking, Fix-It, Incest, Loss of Virginity, Season/Series 02, Sibling Incest, Sister/Sister Incest, Threesome - F/F/F, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-11
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-25 00:54:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2602580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/pseuds/seriousfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If Sara won’t leave Starling City, Nyssa won’t leave her. How the League of Assassins joined Sara Lance’s work. Season 2 AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sara Lance _hurt._ She’d learned to endure a lot of pain over the years, but never being apart from Nyssa. There were so many ways to deal with pain, but only one way to deal with _this._ The League’s way. Remind herself that it was necessary. She couldn’t be with Nyssa. Starling City needed her, her family needed her.

 

 _Nyssa needs you,_ a small voice said, so deep inside her that Sara couldn’t possibly shut it up. _You need her._

She sat in Club Verdant, watching it close up, the last of the employees departing one by one. She’d surreptitiously secured herself in the rafters, an easy feat for her training. Soon, there was no one to bother her. She changed into her leathers, prepared to go out on patrol. Maybe she could pretend any muggers she found were what was keeping her and Nyssa apart.

 

“I never complimented you on your new garb,” a voice rang out, echoing through the empty club like a caress that ran from one wall to another. “An appalling oversight on my part.”

 

Sara spotted Nyssa, lurking at one of the side exits. Her armor on, but her face unveiled. Just looking at her, Sara trusted she wasn’t there to fight.

 

“I most especially like the jacket. It seems to me you built the suit entire around that.”

 

With a sixth grade gymnast gold medal dismount, she dropped down to the floor. Nyssa wasn’t there to fight, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t beg for Sara to come back, in her own way. Something infinitely more dangerous.

 

“I can’t go back, Nyssa. You know that.”

 

“I am aware,” Nyssa said, almost haughty, and Sara caught the words in their secret language, built year by year, touch by touch. _Do you really think I know you so poorly?_ “Do you have any change?”

 

“What?”

 

“Change?” Nyssa’s eyes tilted to the side, reviewing her secondary knowledge of English. “The coins? Little coins you use for soft drinks and arcades?”

 

“Yeah… I have change…” Sara reached into one of her jacket’s hidden pockets. It had almost a hundred of them. She guessed Nyssa had thought Sara would use them for USB drives, microfilm, little lockpicks, but mostly she kept old ticket stubs inside them. So hipster of her…

 

She found a quarter. Flipped it to Nyssa, who caught it expertly. “The League of Assassins graciously accepts your payment. I will stay to provide whatever services I can render in exchange for your generous contribution to our cause.”

 

Sara shook her head. “Nyssa, what are you doing?”

 

“Accepting a contract. Why? Do you believe our terms are unreasonable?” Nyssa’s dark eyes were smoldering with a kind of sardonic humor uniquely hers. “I will accept a dime, but no less.”

 

“Your father will never accept this.”

 

“My father gives orders, but my heart commands me. And you are my heart.” Nyssa sauntered closer to Sara, treating her like a tiger that was finally at ease, allowing her to approach. “If anyone asks—insinuating myself in the circle of a wealthy CEO and his team of vigilantes seems to me the sort of thing the League of Assassins would condone. I will, of course, slowly corrupt you and your friends, giving Ra’s al Ghul a hold on Starling City, and advancing our cause throughout North America.”

 

It was possible only Sara Lance could hear that plot from a master assassin and smile. “I was already missing you. It already felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

 

“Then breathe, _Ta-er al-Asfer_. Breathe deeply.”

 

They embraced. Coming back to Starling City hadn’t felt like home. That had been scrubbed out of her, washed from the marrow of her bones. Starling City was just a place. Even Laurel, Quentin, Ollie—they were just people. Nyssa, she was home. Sara held tightly to her, knowing she would never have to let go again.

 

Her hands traced down Nyssa’s back, long-remembered curves, feeling things both inwardly and outwardly that she had not allowed herself to when she’d known they would have to separate.

 

With a smile, Nyssa told Sara to undress her. Sara did. Eager to obey.

 

“Leave the costume on. And the mask,” Nyssa told her. “I wish to lay claim to every facet of you.”

 

“You like the wig,” Sara replied. “I knew it.”

 

“I prefer—“ Nyssa’s hand dipped into Sara’s pants, “your real hair.”

 

***

 

Felicity Smoak was not looking forward to another night of trying to hack into the Triads. Her evening nap had turned into a very weird sex dream involving equal measures Oliver Queen and Jennifer Lopez. The J-Lo thing seemed more likely to happen. As much as she mooned over him, Oliver had decided that the one woman in the world he wouldn’t bang couldn’t be some 98-year-old woman in Tibet, no, it had to be _her._

She went to the club’s back entrance, fully prepared to tell anyone who asked that, as Oliver’s secretary, she was there to pick up his cell phone, which he’d lost. She mentally rehearsed it over and over, right up until her hand was on the doorknob. Then she heard it.

 

Someone was crying out.

 

 _Had_ cried out. Now they were silent. Everything was silent, except for the wind, which now that Felicity thought about it, was really creepy, whistling and blowing on stuff…

 

“Maybe I should knock,” she said aloud, and raised her fist as if wondering what it would do if it came into contact with a volatile substance like a door. She was about to find out when the cry came again, this time in a pleading tone. Almost as if someone—or something—no, someone—was in pain and begging for it to stop.

 

Felicity hovered at the door, rooted in place. Listening.

 

***

 

Sara stared at Nyssa’s sex, her slit pink and wet and hot for her. She’d stepped out of her trousers and now held the skirt of her clothing up out of the way. Sara could _smell_ her.

 

“I’ve missed your kisses,” Nyssa told her, sitting down, her skirts still held out of the way in an oddly dainty gesture. “I’ve missed your kisses absolutely everywhere, but one place in particular—“

 

As much as she loved Nyssa, Sara knew one of the reasons their attraction was so fierce was that Sara was one of the few people in Nyssa’s orbit who wasn’t frightened of her, that didn’t blindly obey her. So instead of following the veiled order, she knelt down and ran her hands up Nyssa’s smooth legs—creamy, lightly freckled, looking as delicious as Sara knew her to taste.

 

Grinning boldly up at Nyssa, Sara ran her cheek over Nyssa’s thigh. The assassin _trembled_ as Sara got closer and closer to her slit. Then, all at once, Sara threw herself forward and was buried in Nyssa’s sweet taste.

 

***

 

“ _Subhanallah!_ ” The voice came from the same direction as before, but Felicity heard it clearly this time. Obviously, it was louder. Not that she could understand it, not having taken Arabic As A Second Language in college.

 

The dream she’d had about Oliver—and J-Lo—flickered back into Felicity’s mind. Like the word had triggered some posthypnotic suggestion, Felicity slowly turned the knob. The door moved in fractions of inches, as slowly as a safe being cracked, and all the time that voice grew clearer and clearer, resolving into an agonized groan that twisted Felicity’s guts into a knot of fear.

 

A low, needing whine: “Oh yes… please… just like that…!”

 

Felicity stood transfixed, facing a door that was only open a fraction. But it was open.

 

***

 

“Oh yes, oh yes!” Nyssa’s hands had slid behind Sara’s head, where they held as firmly as iron bars. “You consume my womanhood like a—a ravenous wolf!”

 

Sara stopped licking, now probing her tongue between the pouting lips of Nyssa’s cunt as delicately as a lockpick. Nyssa whined and gasped in a manner in no way befitting the Daughter of the Demon.

 

“Oh, my love!” Nyssa exclaimed. “Even if you didn’t have my heart, it would be worth coming to this stinking city—simply for your _tongue!”_

Sara continued attending to her task, now grinding her strong thighs together to feel the juices building in her panties. She didn’t know which was making her so horny—tasting Nyssa’s cunt or hearing her desperate outcry. She rounded her hands around Nyssa’s hips, cupping a lithe ass; overjoyed to discover it was even better to the touch than she remembered.

 

“ _My tongue demands tribute,”_ Sara said in panting Arabic. “ _Give it one, lover.”_

Nyssa nodded in eager submission.

 

***

 

A sharp wail shot through the door, making Felicity instinctively jump back. Her mind rushed to a decision. She would leave. This was none of her business. She would just damn well leave.

 

Only now the sounds had changed. There was no more whimpering breathiness, just low, gasping moans. Sounded like the noises J-Lo had been making in her dream. But it was so intense, so _loud_ —even louder than it really, objectively was, somehow, the sound just _pounding_ in her mind. Maybe it was something else? Maybe someone was hurt or in trouble! She should check. She would just… check…

 

Winding her fingers around the open door, Felicity took a deep breath and eased it further open.

 

***

 

Nyssa’s hands were lost in Sara’s hair, deliriously adrift in a sea of golden light. It seemed the one stable point in her world, as her whole body heaved rhythmically, trying to get more of her burning pussy to the sweet salve of Sara’s mouth.

 

Sara had Nyssa’s lips spread open, the bright pinkness inside blotting out the stark red of Sara’s tongue. Both of them watched, spellbound by the interplay of colors as Nyssa absorbed the tongue over and over again. Then Sara noticed Nyssa’s clit had swollen out of its hood. With a winking look to her lover, she pressed her tongue to it and Nyssa practically flew off her perch.

 

“Make me come, make me come,” Nyssa chanted to the only woman in the world from whom she would beg a thing rather than simply take it. “Use your fingers.”

 

Sara looked up at her, surprised that Nyssa was so quickly ready to be penetrated. But she herself felt the need, wanted her remembrance of Nyssa tightening and slickening around her fingers to become suddenly real. She wrapped her lips around Nyssa’s glistening bud, devoting all her attention to that lucky morsel as her fingers found Nyssa’s cunt, warm as melting butter…

 

***

 

Felicity moved so slowly, so aware of every motion, it was like she was watching herself through a dream. She pushed the door open, further and further. It seemed surreal that it didn’t stop, that it kept _opening._ Her whole body tensed as the hinges twisted. She could imagine the worst-case scenario—a tiny squeak—and thought she would have a heart attack if that happened. But the door just—gave. Open a crack… enough for her to poke her head through.

 

“Do it, do it!” a high-pitched voice rang out, and despite the words, Felicity thought she had been detected, that someone was speaking to her. No, it was still just… them… and it was pretty obvious now that they weren’t in trouble.

 

Just a couple of Thea’s employees, getting some off the clock. What the hell was Felicity doing, peeking on them? She spent half the day on the internet; she knew how to find porn if that was what she was looking for. Cursing herself, Felicity took her hand off the door.

 

It yawned open anyway.

 

***

 

Nyssa made more noise than she would if a spear had pierced her heart, gasping as Sara twisted her fingers inside the other woman. She pulled Sara’s wig clean off her head, tossing it aside as her lust grew. The lust that had been with her since she had first laid eyes on Sara. The lust that had grown every moment they’d trained and fought together. The lust that had been merely whetted, never quenched by actually possessing the blonde. The lust that had been set on fire by Sara’s absence. The lust that was now building to an explosion.

 

“Fuck me! Fuck me!” Nyssa panted. “In the name of Ra’s al Ghul, _fuck my cunt!”_

With a wry look at her—they’d have to discuss pillow talk later—Sara eagerly pistoned her fingers through Nyssa’s clasping sex, grinding her knuckles into the walls of Nyssa’s pussy. Nyssa grunted like an animal, feeling her body throbbing out of control.

 

“Yes!” Nyssa cried. “Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

 

Her sex was spasming, her juices spilling out from deep within her as Sara’s fingers slipped sleekly into her, fucking her even as she came. And yet Sara slowed down her mouth, only lapping intermittently at Nyssa’s painfully erect clit to guide Nyssa to peak after peak of a powerful climax.

 

***

 

Felicity shook uncontrollably. She bit down on the ball of her thumb to keep from crying out. She had known Sara and Nyssa had been involved—Dig had awkwardly informed her of their full history—but that was back when Sara was a scary assassin lady.

 

She had no idea Sara… sweet, adorable, brave Sara… was still involved with some sort of terrorist. Still in love with her—still in the city with her, _Nyssa_ was still in the city—still _fucking._ They were fucking right in front of her. She stood there, helplessly, trying to regain her senses. If anything, she would’ve thought Sara would be the one to make such a pitifully wounded sound, but she was the one doing it to Nyssa—making her face contort in obvious, _incredible_ pleasure.

 

Her heart was pounding like a V8 engine. She imagined them hearing it across the empty room. Felicity put one hand to her breast, trying to muffle the telltale sound, and found her nipple hard.

 

***

 

Nyssa fell back in her seat, her dark thighs now bright in the dim light with the sheen of Sara’s tongue and her own juices. Laughing animatedly—a broad, booming sound Sara was sure was a rare gift—Nyssa stripped off the clothes remaining above her waist.

 

“I knew—from the moment I looked in your eye—that you would be a fine warrior. If only I had known what a wicked tongue you would prove to have!” Nyssa laughed again, Sara reflecting it in a bright smile. “You should’ve warned me!”

 

“If only I had known I liked girls,” Sara retorted. “You should’ve warned me.”

 

Nyssa reached out to run her hands through Sara’s natural hair, the shorter cut and duller sheen that was still very much to Nyssa’s liking. “I’ll warn you now: it was not only your lips whose absence I marked.” Her fingers moved down to crest Sara’s mouth. “Well… not _these_ lips, I should say.”

 

Nyssa was touching a huge smile as Sara undid her belt.

 

***

 

Felicity’s dazed, almost unknowing stare remained on Sara and Nyssa. She watched like it was a magic show, looking for some illusion, some trick, some sign that it was all a lie, even as she watched Nyssa push Sara to the floor—spread her thighs—yank her pants to her knees. A brief glimpse showed Felicity that Sara’s panties were wettened to her crotch; then Nyssa pulled them away.

 

“I will never relinquish your taste on my tongue again,” Nyssa promised, lifting Sara’s tanned legs onto her shoulders, then gluing her mouth to Sara’s sex. Sara groaned in exuberant enjoyment as her folds were parted by a knowledgeable tongue. It was clear from Sara’s groans and mewls—primal pleasure—that Nyssa was a skilled lover of women in general, and her in particular. “My most cherished prize is the pleasure I shall give you each night…”

 

“Fuck!” Sara replied eloquently as she squirmed under the weight of the pleasure Nyssa inflicted on her.

 

The obscenity hit Felicity like an electric charge, leaving her tingling. She didn’t know what she was doing there, what was making her watch—only that she was there, she _was_ watching. It seemed like… if this could happen to Sara, if one of the bravest, strongest women Felicity knew could give into this insane seduction… it could happen to anyone.

 

 _It could happen to_ me, Felicity thought, trying to ignore the feeling that ran menacing up her thighs.

 

***

 

Sara’s cunt was dripping wet—wetter than even Nyssa’s had been, Sara thought guiltily. Christ, how much had she missed this? How had she not gone running back to Nanda Parbat for more of _her?_

Because she’d known Nyssa would come for her. With every bit as much certainty as she knew Nyssa would teasingly sample her wetness with a flickering tongue—“Oh!”—before piercing her with the entire length—“Shit!”—Sara had known they would be pulled back together, by circumstances or Fate or Nyssa’s sheer bloody-minded determination.

 

“I need to come,” Sara gasped, all thoughts of restraint gone, all the relearned mannerisms of Starling City shed. She was just raw need, and Nyssa was pure satisfaction. Sara spread her legs as wide as she could and let the two meet. “Like only you can make me… only you…”

 

Nyssa’s tongue withdrew between shimmering lips, replaced by two fingers curling inside Sara, a soft touch melting into her most sensitive place. Sara’s mouth hung open. Her eyes fell shut.

 

“Only I can make you come like this,” Nyssa said, pausing only to lick the dampness from her chin, “because only I can order you to come so _fucking_ hard.”

***

 

Felicity watched the scene before her like she was attending a TEDtalk, making note of every blur of Sara’s gyrating hips, the exact angle of her splayed-out legs… the beads of perspiration breaking out on her own neck, to wander into the cleft of her cleavage.

 

She had to leave. Now, before she saw any more, before any more of _what they were doing_ got into her head. She shut her eyes—still heard the deep, desperate sound of Sara _asking_ to be fucked by this madwoman—turned around—still saw the veil of Nyssa’s black hair undulating gently between Sara’s thighs like a waterfall at night.

 

She opened her eyes again, the horrible scene literally behind her, and saw herself walking away, walking to her car, driving away, back to her own apartment, where no one had sweaty lesbian sex with any assassins whatsoever!

 

She just didn’t move. There was a spark smoldering between her legs. She didn’t want it to go out. And as she turned around, every inch she moved made the spark burn brighter.

 

***

 

Sara had been horny. Then, tasting Nyssa’s cunt, she’d been desperate. Now, she was no longer anything _but_ need. She begged. Begged simply because Nyssa wanted her to.

 

“Tell me to come! Tell me to come!”

 

Nyssa looked into Sara’s eyes. Looked down to Sara’s clit. She lowered her teeth to it, spoke against it like the little thing could hear her. “You are mine. So come for _me!”_

Her teeth gnashed.

 

Sara came. Fucking her pussy desperately into the sheer beauty of Nyssa’s face as she came uncontrollably against the pure pleasure of Nyssa’s mouth, moaning, whining, jerking her flushed ass cheeks right off the carpet. Her body gave Nyssa all the pungent juices she had to offer, coming for nearly a minute, and Nyssa took it all. As greedily as Felicity’s widened eyes took in the sight of it.

 

***

 

Felicity’s hand moved down her body as if discovering it for the first time. Her belly was soft, the slope downward graceful, a smooth dip to the soft material of her skirt. Underneath, the softer feel of her pubic mound. She rested her hand there as if the need would end with it, but it didn’t. Seeing Sara come, it got worse. While the rest of her was frozen, her hand moved. Back and forth, through the silky material of her panties, against the slippery moisture crowning her trembling pubis. Then, inside, under the damp heat, against _herself._

She came, already knowing it wouldn’t be enough.

 

***

 

“I had an unquenchable thirst for you,” Nyssa whispered in Sara’s ear as they laid together on the body-warm floor, its material soaked in the heat they had generated. “I satiate myself with the sight of you, the sound of you, the feel of you, but I still feel this thirst. I’m as bound to you as I am to the air and the water.”

 

“Then take your fill,” Sara said, poising her naked body underneath Nyssa’s, though she only provoked a new, soulful kiss. Their hunger for each other had been too intense. In satisfying it, they had emptied themselves. All that was left was the soft, succoring feel of their togetherness.

 

Nyssa’s lips returned to Sara’s ear, surprising her with a slight nipple. “I would… but I am not the only one who holds desire for you.”

 

Sara arched an eyebrow.

 

“The blonde?” Nyssa asked, almost teasing.

 

“Felicity Smoak. She’s a fan.”

 

“The hacker,” Nyssa realized. “She could be a worthy ally. If properly motivated…”

 

“Maybe you could put some pants on if you intend to recruit her?”

 

“No need. She already brings herself a dim reflection of the pleasure I could show her.” Nyssa smiled into another kiss. “Let’s allow her to finish. I sympathize with her—going without so pleasing a sight as you for so long…”

 

“We could do that…” Sara began, before being interrupted by another taunting kiss. “Or…” And Nyssa stopped short as one of Sara’s fingers found its way home. “We could finish with her.”

 

***

 

Felicity was almost mesmerized now, sucked deep into her pleasure like she had fallen into a trance. Sara and Nyssa’s fuck had reached a valley instead of a peak, but their sweaty bodies were still the most erotic sight Felicity could imagine, and every caress of their hands or meeting of their lips sent a jagged sort of need into a new place within her.

 

She unzipped her skirt, let it fall, stepped right out of it. Then jerked her wet panties down to her thighs. Now bottomless, she eased her fingers inside herself. It was so good. So wonderful. So wrong, too, but she couldn’t, wouldn’t summon the willpower to stop.

 

She was falling into a deep, powerful pleasure as her middle finger timidly slid up her slit, into maddening contact with her erect clitoris. It was like no sex she had ever had before. The satisfying, guilty comfort of lying in a warm bed all morning, interspersed with the guiltier ecstasy of devouring dark chocolate. And when she circled this new, mysterious pleasure with her finger, _that_ she couldn’t even begin to compare to something else.

 

A new and warmly surging delight came to her. She could feel her pussy getting wetter, somehow, her labia growing slippery. It would be so easy to reach inside. She only had to press her fingers against it—just—push…

 

Felicity gasped as her touch insinuated itself inside the tight, constricting space. If she thought of Nyssa or Sara hearing her, she didn’t care. She shut out all thought that someone might see her, any knowledge that this was wrong. All that mattered was the lurching feeling of her finger being worked in and out, back and forth, sensations so different it seemed ludicrous her body could produce both at once. She flicked her thumb at the hot quiver of her clitoris—“Yes!”

 

 _Let_ them hear her. All that mattered was to reach the same delicious finale they had.

 

***

 

“I have a gift for you,” Nyssa muttered, eyes rolling back in her head as Sara nibbled at her pulse. “All the way from Nanda Parbat.”

 

“You’re the only gift I want,” Sara said immediately, her tongue traveling up from the hollow of Nyssa’s throat.

 

“Then think of it as a gift for me—giving my gift to you.”

 

Physically pulling herself away from Sara’s attentions, Nyssa clawed into her discarded clothes, finding a hidden pocket, removing from it a small vial. She displayed the liquid inside the glass to Sara. “Oils from the Pits of Lazarus. The rarest treasure I could bring. Not worth a tenth as much as you, _Ta-er al-Asfer_.”

 

“So you’ll enjoy putting it on me,” Sara smirked, “and our guest will enjoy _watching_ …”

 

“You’ll enjoy my touch,” Nyssa said with an air of gentle correction, “as well as her gaze.”

 

“Well, in that case, it’s a fine gift indeed.” Sara’s smile grew for miles. “So give it to me.”

 

Nyssa poured some of the precious oil out into her hands before setting the vial aside. She rubbed her palms together, lathering the green liquid into a warm, clear spread, then began Sara’s anointment.

 

First, she slathered Sara’s shoulders, then worked her way down Sara’s muscular back before reaching around to Sara’s breasts—by now aching for attention. Sara looked down in wonder as her breasts were slowly, gently covered, a radiant green glow massaged into them. Nyssa gave them all the love and care a body could ask for, grasping them, kneading them, drawing her fingers back with only the greatest of reluctance, letting them pull gently at Sara’s rosy nipples as her touch tapered off the Canary’s breasts.

 

Sara took the vial now, greasing up her hands just as Nyssa had. As Nyssa moved her playful hands down Sara’s body, she fondled Nyssa in the same way she herself had been touched.

 

“What’s mine is yours,” Sara said, polishing Nyssa’s body to a bright sheen.

 

She might as well have been referring to the pleasure she felt, having Nyssa delve between her legs once more.

 

***

 

Felicity didn’t remember sitting down, but she was flat on her ass, knees bent to let her better touch herself, her breasts heaving almost angrily inside her shirt, seeming heated, constricted. She would send her top to join her bottom, only she was no more willing to part with the feeling of her masturbation than she had been before.

 

Her entire body quivered, her mind electrified—she was a battleground of sensations, a race of intensities speeding to be felt first. Her face was colored a deep red, her heart setting a wild pace with its beat. Her orgasm began in the warm throb of her sex, moved up the pinched pleasure of her belly, and kept going, going, higher, higher…

 

***

 

Both bodies aglow with the oil they’d lavished on each other, Nyssa put a strong arm around Sara and guided her down upon her back. After a quick glance over at Felicity, she leaned over Sara to greedily mouth the blonde’s breasts, only stopping to nibble playfully at the hard little bud standing out hard and straight from either swell.

 

The Canary cried a symphony of pleasured sounds, finally growing so excited that the only way to express it was to shoot her hand to Nyssa’s box. Nyssa rolled onto her side, Sara following with her, the two embracing, touching, only able to still move because they enjoyed giving pleasure to each other more than getting it themselves. They moaned as much as they touched, moving with as much urgency as Felicity, Nyssa frantically rubbing Sara’s clit, Sara desperately fingering Nyssa’s snatch. There was no thought in their motions, their bodies anymore.

 

Their kisses were sheer instinct.

 

***

 

Felicity felt something in her body finally _give,_ a hot release of gushing spurts, right into her penetrating finger, covering her hand, then her tingling thighs. Her groan was purely animal, arriving at the same time as a sharp curse and a muffled cry—loud enough to wake all of Starling City if it hadn’t been buried in the sex of Nyssa al Ghul.

 

The three of them had all come at once. Overpowered by the triple intensity, Felicity laid back, legs quivering, arms asleep, barely able to turn her head to keep her two lovers— _the_ two lovers—in sight. She couldn’t even pull her fingers from the wet bite of her orgasm. She just let the dying throbs keep going and going and going until they were finally stilled. Then she heard a sharp intake of breath.

 

Nyssa had rolled off of Sara, who stayed frozen in her bottoming position, legs parted and buttocks raised to Nyssa’s absent fingers. Her face was turned to Felicity with a look of complete satiation, while Nyssa stood over her, hands on her hips, regarding the intruder in a way that sent a delicate tickle through a place Felicity thought had gone to sleep.

 

“Felicity, correct?” Nyssa asked sharply. “What are you doing here? The League of Assassins does not look kindly upon spies.”

 

“I wasn’t… spying,” Felicity said lamely, trying desperately to pull up her panties only to find she’d accidentally kicked them off. She tried crab-walking over to where they lay, but Nyssa froze her with a look.

 

“If you were spying on us,” Nyssa continued, taking a step forward, “there will be dire repercussions. However, if you only meant to join us…” She shared a look with Sara. “I think we can be… understanding.”

 

“J-join you?”

 

“You’re halfway there already,” Sara broke in. “You just have to lose that adorable sweater…”

 

“I… I can’t… the three of us, that’s…”

 

Nyssa kept coming. Not with the gait she used with Sara, that of a vet approaching a cornered animal. This was a predator stalking its prey. “Oliver Queen will not have you in his bed. _Clearly,_ you are so insatiate as to require pleasuring. You’ve seen what we can do to each other, so would you prefer to continue imagining what we could do to you—or shall you _experience_ it?”

 

“I… I…”

 

Sara raised her head—barely. As tough as she was, she had only started training less than a decade ago. Nyssa had been an assassin her entire life. “Felicity, trust me. Say yes. Nyssa is the Demon’s Heir. She always gets what she wants.”

 

“Yes,” Nyssa confirmed, drawing her eyes far more over what was still concealed by Felicity’s clothes than what had been revealed. “Always.”

 

Hands shaking, Felicity reached for the hem of her sweater.


	2. Chapter 2

For hours, Nyssa and Sara gave Felicity the best sex she’d ever had, kissing her, licking at her, fingering her. They spent an entire half-hour in a naked triangle on the floor, each girl’s face between another’s thighs until they’d all had their fill. Now Felicity laid on her back, her well-stimulated cunt oversensitive, but still needy. The floodgates were open.

 

She slid both hands to her pussy while painfully aware of the women on either side of her, a bare leg or heaving breast occasionally brushing her body as they encouraged her masturbatory desire. Nyssa spoke in fierce Arabic, clearly spouting the most obscene remarks, making even Sara blush, while Sara told her how beautiful she was, how good it’d been to make love to her.

 

“Put your finger in your ass,” Nyssa said in sudden English, and Felicity was so surprised she almost stopped. “ _Finger your asshole,”_ she insisted.

 

Nyssa lifted her ass off the floor, allowing Felicity to slip a hand away from her sex and over her bottom. As she felt a lovely climax approach, she pressed a wet finger to her soft asshole, giving it a teasing as Nyssa nodded in approval.

 

“That looks so good, Felicity,” Sara whispered in her ear. “You look so beautiful. Fuck your ass, baby, fuck your ass for us…”

 

Putting on her best war-face, Felicity plunged her finger in up to the hilt, fucking feverishly at the sudden pleasure between her cheeks. It felt good! It didn’t hurt at all! In less than a minute of furiously masturbating her cunt and asshole, she’d worked herself to a powerful orgasm. Her sex worked strongly, unfamiliar muscles being stretched, and suddenly Felicity was watching a stream of liquid ecstasy depart her pussy. She wailed out loud, every fiber of her body glowing with her own pleasure and her lovers’ pleasure in her. It was complete and utter self-indulgence.

 

“I knew we could get her to pour out her delight,” Nyssa cooed confidently. “Like a cup filled to the brim…” She leaned over to kiss Sara, the blonde quickly redirecting her attention back to Felicity.

 

“So pretty,” Sara whispered, one last time, before laughingly pulling Felicity’s hands away and dropping her lovely face between Felicity’s thighs, cleaning up with her tongue.

 

Nyssa enshrined herself around Felicity, holding the hacker every bit as close as Felicity might cuddle a pillow on a particularly lonely night. It felt good, relaxing into another warm body, even one full of scars and muscle. “Did you enjoy it?” Nyssa asked. “Being fucked in the ass?”

 

“I, I guess so. I mean, I came. Although, I was also masturbating vaginally at the time, so I don’t really have a control group on that experiment.”

 

Sara kissed her thigh before resting her head on it. “You liked it.”

 

“Yeah, okay, I guess I—kinda did. Please don’t tell people? I do not need to start getting texts about liking anal sex.”

 

Sara giggled, once more taken with Felicity’s cuteness. She reached up to take Nyssa’s hand, squeezing it graciously. “Your secret’s safe with us.”

 

“Can we trust you with one of our secrets?” Nyssa asked, her voice gruffer, while the hand she had sliding down Felicity’s arm remained insinuating.

 

“Like, a secret besides you having kinky lesbian sex, sometimes with a third person, making them kinky lesbian threesomes? Because the first part is pretty well-known, considering, and the second part isn’t that much of a stretch, I think a lot of couples would have kinky threesomes, lesbian or otherwise, if someone really cute came along. Not that I think I’m really cute or anything! I do think I’m kinda cute, just not _really_ , kinky lesbian threesome, cute.”

 

“There may be some evidence to the contrary,” Sara quipped, nipping at Felicity’s leg again.

 

Felicity was blushing very hard for someone who’d just been encouraged to masturbate by two other women. “What’s the secret?”

 

“We want you to help us with some business,” Nyssa said.

 

“Off the books,” Sara added.

 

“Like, a flower shop?”

 

“The kind of business Ollie does,” Sara said. “But you can’t tell him about it.”

 

“Or anyone else,” Nyssa said.

 

Felicity bit her lip. That wasn’t enough. She sat up, spilling Sara out of her lap, leaving Nyssa on the floor. She looked around for her clothes. “Look, Sara, I trust you—I’m a very trusting person. But Oliver is very particular about… stuff. And Nyssa, you’re great. I love you. In a platonic but I guess also sexual way. You have a great body, great look, I like the accent, it’s all just… awesome.” Felicity gave her a brief thumbs up as she rose. “But, uhh, I really can’t get into killing people. Oliver’s really particular about that.”

 

“Some people need to die,” Nyssa said simply. “If Queen values his own self-worth over the well-being of the innocents caught in the crossfire…”

 

“That’s not what he does!” Felicity protested.

 

Sara stood too, gripping Felicity by the shoulders. “Felicity, I’m not crazy about killing either. You _know_ how I feel about it. But sometimes, it is necessary. Didn’t Oliver kill Count Vertigo to save you?”

 

“That’s different,” Felicity insisted. “He was about to kill me.”

 

“And if he’d been five minutes away from killing you?” Nyssa reclined, unconcerned, on the floor as Felicity gathered her clothes. “Ten minutes? A day? A week? Knowing what he is, knowing he’s irredeemable, how can you countenance allowing him to place you in that position?”

 

“You nearly died,” Sara agreed.

 

Felicity’s clothes had become a pile in her arms. She hugged them to her chest. “Thanks for reminding me. That’s really super of you. _Why can’t_ you just work with Oliver and Dig? Why do you need _her_?”

 

Nyssa looked away.

 

“I think this city is more important than Ollie’s feelings,” Sara said. “I’m not saying I agree with the League’s methods. I’m saying I don’t agree with Ollie’s either. Felicity, when you joined his crusade, Oliver was a killer. Are you really so opposed to what he did, or are you just following his lead?”

 

“I was never comfortable with there being a body count. By the time I met him, Oliver gave people every chance—“

 

“What did he think when he heard of Sara operating in his city?” Nyssa cut in. “A vigilante, like himself, sparing lives but defending the weak, the innocent. Did he accept that he had no right to sit in judgment of her or did he think of how to control her?”

 

Felicity grinded her teeth. “He’s been burnt before.”

 

Now Sara stepped in. “You’ll decide.”

 

Felicity looked at her. “What?”

 

“Before any killing is done. The three of us decide as a team. It has to be unanimous. Felicity, if the reasoning isn’t good enough for you, then we won’t do it.”

 

 _Now_ Nyssa stood. “The League does not work for someone just because she makes a pleasant addition to your bed!”

 

Sara held up a hand, silencing Nyssa before she could continue. “She can be pragmatic. But she’s also the most innocent of us. Face it, neither of us have much in the way of moral fiber. She does. We should listen to her.”

 

“I can’t just choose who lives and dies!” Felicity protested.

 

“The fact that you don’t want that power makes you perfect for it. If even you see the need to kill someone, we’ll know there’s no other way.”

 

In silence, Felicity began to dress. Sara approached her, closer this time.

 

“Felicity, please. I know it’s not fair to ask you to be my conscience… but I need one. Someone who sees clearly. Not with guilt or bloodlust or expediency, but just—whether it’s right or wrong.”

 

Finally, Felicity looked at her. “Malcolm Merlyn. He nearly killed Oliver. Could you have taken him out?”

 

“Yes,” Nyssa said confidently. “Together.”

 

“Saved the Glades?”

 

Sara nodded.

 

“I would just have to ask. See if someone is enough of a threat, going to be enough of a danger that they need to die.” Felicity looked away. “Some kind of fortune teller…”

 

“More of an oracle,” Nyssa thought aloud. “Seeing how Oliver can help the city. Seeing how we can…”

 

“Why do you even care?” Felicity asked. “You’re just here for Sara!”

 

“I take pride in my work,” Nyssa said, blank-faced. “And if my beloved asks for the gift of her city’s safety, I intend to give it to her.”

 

“So it doesn’t matter to you one way or the other? Taking orders from me?”

 

Nyssa inclined her head. “I follow wisdom no matter the source.”

 

“She’ll be true to her word,” Sara insisted. “If you don’t trust her, trust me.”

 

In a huff, Felicity began to dress. “Like I don’t work hard enough already…”

 

“You’ll be called upon rarely,” Nyssa said. “The League’s methods are not as modern, as… untried as yours.”

 

“And if you ever go behind my back, I’ll go to Oliver.”

 

“Of course,” Nyssa said blithely.

 

“And Sara will leave you.”

 

“What?” Sara squawked, a somewhat inglorious sound.

 

“Nyssa’s made promises. I’ve made promises. You’re the only one without something in the pot,” Felicity said, jumping into her pants. She thought to herself that she probably should’ve just stayed naked like the other two, even if she didn’t have their bodies. “If Nyssa kills anyone without the express permission of the group, then you’ll never see her again.”

 

Nyssa was glaring dangerously at Felicity. “My word is my word. I do not have to vouchsafe it for the likes of you!”

 

“She can kill in self-defense,” Sara argued. “Even Oliver does that.”

 

“And if she provokes a confrontation, knowing she’ll have to kill to defend herself?”

 

Sara looked at Nyssa. “Give your word that you won’t. You don’t have to vouchsafe it.”

 

Nyssa’s hips propped up her hands. “I give my word, the word of the Demon’s Daughter, and by extension the promise of Ra’s al Ghul, that I shall take no life in my dealings with _Ta-er al-Asfer._ On my honor, I will not place myself in a position where I will knowingly have to shed blood to survive. I shall only commit an execution if both my lovers deem it necessary, for the greater good of Starling City and for the glory of the League of Assassins.”

 

“I… don’t know if we’re officially ‘lovers,’” Felicity sputtered, “I’m pretty sure Sara’s your lover and I’m just, like, a side ho…”

 

“You’re mumbling again,” Nyssa said. “Good. I trust that means you’re satisfied.”

 

“Satisfied? The thought of being complicit in you murdering someone, even in theory, makes me sick.” Felicity ran her hands through her hair, busying them with restoring her ponytail. “But it might save Oliver’s life, or a lot of other lives. Calling in a… human air strike.”

 

“There is another matter,” Nyssa interrupted, her eyes running warmly over Felicity’s fully-clad body.

 

“Is this about the thing I did with your toes? Because I don’t have a fetish or anything, I just thought you might like it.”

 

“It was most enjoyable,” Nyssa said with a step taken closer to Felicity. “But if I’m to take orders from you, you must be a member of the League of Assassins. You must be initiated. As Sara was initiated.”

 

Felicity’s fingers fiddled together. “What would that… entail… exactly?”

 

“A sacrifice. Of something precious. A breach of taboo. A willingness shown to commit yourself, body and soul, to your brothers and sisters in arms.”

 

“So… is there a form to fill out or…?”

 

Nyssa leaned in. “Your clothes. They are inconvenient for our purposes. Remove them once more.”


	3. Chapter 3

All Felicity could think about, beyond her own nudity, was the pair of lips reverently kissing her pale ass. Occasionally, Sara would pause to lick at the base of her spine, where a teasingly sensitive spot always made Felicity tingle, but then the blonde always went back to those soft, rounded moons to gently exercise her lips and teeth. A warm glow was spreading through Felicity’s hips, like Sara was whispering a magic spell to be carried in the blood of her arteries and capillaries, the warmth spreading forward, toward her core…

 

Nyssa was behind the bar that Felicity was leaning against. She was dressed, watching, seated like a queen and making the polite observations of an art connoisseur. “Such untouched beauty. The fact that she would never think to do this makes it all the more pleasurable _to_ do it. To say nothing of her form—the sweet, young body. Its suppleness, its charming shape, its inexperience… she reminds me of you when we first met, _Ta-er al-Asfer._ Of how you described yourself to me before you boarded that yacht…”

 

There was an underlying current, a charge to Nyssa’s words, and as Sara heard it, she began to change her activities. Her kisses would stop every so often, replaced with a sharp little bite. They didn’t hurt—not quite. They were just sort of… exciting. Felicity slowly got the idea that Sara was preparing to do something, something very different—nothing to be frightened of. It would be just as exciting as the nibbling.

 

“Do you remember what I did to you, beloved?” Nyssa asked rhetorically. “What you’d never allowed _anyone_ to do to you before?”

 

“Oh yes,” Sara replied, her callused thumbs pressing into the crevice of Felicity’s ass, spreading the yielding buttocks wide apart. Then her tongue moved in. Lapped at the bottom of Felicity’s sex. Traveled her perineum. And then into her inner crevice.

 

Felicity flushed in embarrassment. Not that she _was_ embarrassed—it was a perfectly natural place to lick, she’d been around the block a few times, even if she hadn’t ever done that. She’d had it described to her. Online. And it felt… not bad… odd. Not pleasurable or erotic, mostly just awkward.

 

Felicity usually felt awkward—licking her ass wasn’t something that got another reaction from her. Then that wet, trembling tongue moved up her ass, over the base of her spine—it was all just nerves, stirrings of excitement—Sara moved back down, spreading her asscheeks to let in cool air and a warm tongue, its wicked tip quivering against Felicity’s puckered anus—wetly snaking inside—a sort of pleasure shot through the paths her excitement had set, into her sex—a shuddering, liquid feeling…

 

“I’ve never done this before,” Felicity whimpered. It was all she could think to say.

 

“I know, baby.” Sara kissed the flat of her ass, the feeling somehow tender. “That’s why it means so much.”

 

Then Sara’s hands were below her hips, pulling her belly up high, pushing it atop the bar so that her ass was now up in the air and she was bent over. Felicity blushed bright red, feeling incredibly foolish, naked, obscene. Especially with Nyssa watching her, so cool, so casual. Sara kissed the side of her hip, adoring, reassuring, and Felicity felt a little better. But what she wouldn’t give for a pair of panties right about then…

 

Felicity felt Sara’s finger moving down the valley of her ass, onto the tiny hole, probing into the forbidden passageway. She immediately tensed. Something hard and dry and strong like Sara’s finger was somehow so much worse than a wet, lapping tongue.

 

“It’s alright,” Nyssa assured her, reaching out to run a firm hand through Felicity’s hair. “You’ll give in. Your body knows, even if your mind doesn’t. There’s no escaping the pleasure we’re going to bring you. As soon as you allow it, it’ll feel better and better. Won’t it, Sara? Didn’t your climax shake the heavens once you finally admitted how much you loved it?”

 

Sara was making a sawing motion with her finger, a gentle little motion against Felicity’s tightly puckered ring. “She’s right. I just had to let go of fear. Chief among them, the fear of how much I enjoyed all the things I’d been told were wrong or forbidden. This isn’t wrong, Felicity. If it were, why would it feel like _this_?””

 

She pressed in tighter, tighter, making Felicity groan and wince, trying to move, do something, but abruptly Sara’s short fingernail was inside her, the pad of her finger, inside. Felicity had thought it would hurt. It hadn’t.

 

Neither did Nyssa’s hand stroking her cheek, or Sara’s caressing her back. It was all… sort of pleasant. The more she relaxed, the less she fought it, the more pleasant it became. With Sara sawing continuously into her ass, never abrupt, always gentle, but constantly going deeper… it was starting to feel _good._

Felicity moved her hips experimentally, using her leg and stomach muscles to raise her ass. Presenting it to Sara.

 

“Such a brave girl,” Nyssa said soothingly. “A good girl. Sara required far more instruction. I do believe you’re a natural.”

 

“Yeah? Who’s the one doing this to her?” Sara asked with her finger in all the way to the knuckle, her palm against Felicity’s ass.

 

She made little circles with her embedded finger, drawing the ring open, open, open, then withdrawing… returning. It seemed much thicker to Felicity. Two fingers, she realized, which somehow seemed so much more taboo. She had put one finger inside herself before, but two was…

 

“That hurts,” Felicity lied, not for reason she could tell, just feeling she had to say _something,_ make some—token—protest.

 

Nyssa smirked, eyes glinting that it was a lie, then looking at Sara—sharing the information? The thought was horrifying. Felicity couldn’t believe she was being, feeling so childish.

 

“It can’t hurt very much,” Nyssa said calmly. “You’ll be fine in a second.”

 

It wasn’t the pain, though, that Felicity minded. It was that she knew she was being stretched. Shouldn’t that hurt? Shouldn’t her body be doing something _against_ this use that’d never been intended? Why was it, she, just—giving in? She felt strange muscles deep in her belly. They were milking at Sara’s double fingers.

 

Felicity’s thoughts jumbled—the vague subconscious assertion that this wasn’t right coupling with the feel of excitement, the feeling of being subjugated—completely at the mercy of these two women. These two beautiful, incredible women who wanted nothing more than to possess her, please her, have her…

 

Again, Sara’s fingers made a circular motion. Rimming her. Stretching her further… further… further. She suddenly wanted those fingers deeper. Felicity didn’t stop herself. She pushed back, groaning softly, feeling them slide inside her so easily. Like they belonged inside her. She tossed her head in abandon as she felt a throbbing sensation she’d never known before. It was good. It was so good.

 

Sara removed her fingers suddenly. Felicity didn’t know what she was supposed to feel, but she felt disappointed. Was that it? Was that the initiation? She turned her head and saw the thick white instrument between Sara’s legs. A prodigiously sized, phallically shaped bone carving, covered in carved symbols, strapped to Sara’s waist and groin.

 

Sara moved forward, slowly but inevitable, between Felicity’s legs. She cupped Felicity’s thighs to hold them apart. Nyssa herself reached over to take hold of the dildo and press it to Felicity’s puckered brown hole. It felt just as large as it looked.

 

“I can’t take all that!” Felicity said hysterically. “It’s too big.”

 

They practically ignored her. “I took it,” Sara said as if she were just thinking out loud.

 

The pressure continued in a horrible, slow, inevitable sort of way. The dildo moving gently, always gently into Felicity’s tiny opening, only insinuating itself, only stretching Felicity a little bit at a time. But before she knew it, the head was inside.

 

Felicity was shocked—even a little proud of herself. It hadn’t hurt very much at all. She’d experienced more discomfort trying to take a penis in her vagina without sufficient foreplay. While the foreplay Nyssa and Sara had given her seemed sufficient for anything.

 

Sara moved in deeper—inch after inch—Felicity began to feel discomfort, then pain. She pushed forward, but Sara was holding her tight.

 

“It hurts!” Felicity winced, looking at Nyssa. Begging for mercy.

 

Nyssa stopped Sara with a look. She crouched before Felicity, running a hand through her blonde hair. “You must be strong.”

 

“It’s too big!” Felicity whimpered. “I can’t… I can’t…”

 

“You can. You will,” Nyssa stated evenly, looking to Sara. “Slow. But steady.”

 

The pressure had been there throughout—the huge dildo impaling her all this time—but now it grew, slowly but just as inexorably, Felicity whining as she felt pain at the pit of her stomach. Like a bellyache—her knowing, _feeling_ that she was being reamed, her bowels pushed into, her ass violated. Escape was impossible. Sara held her legs like a wheelbarrow; Nyssa had her from the other side.

 

“You have to take it all,” Nyssa said. “You have to feel pain before it can become pleasure. Can’t you feel the pleasure beginning? Can’t you feel yourself accepting that you are possessed? Raise up.”

 

It hurt so much that Felicity would obey any order, hoping there would be relief. She raised her buttocks and the dildo moved in smoothly. She groaned. It was impossible to think through the pain. It’d never been impossible for her to think before. She hadn’t drunk, she hadn’t done drugs, all because her mind was too valuable to her. Now it was gone.

 

Lost in this pain, and not just pain, but the feeling of being degraded, abused, _used_ by these two women. And by the overpowering presence of the thickened thing in her body… it felt alive… it felt bigger, realer than Sara and Nyssa. It felt like her master.

 

“Take it,” Nyssa commanded. “Eat it. Feed upon it.”

 

Felicity just tasted the tears that were running out her eyes, down to her mouth.

 

“Fuck her,” Nyssa ordered Sara, and the blonde moved into Felicity like a well-oiled piston.

 

Felicity gasped with every thrust.

 

“You can either endure the pain or you can master it,” Nyssa told her. “Relax your body. Command its response. Take your pleasure from this.”

 

“How?” Felicity begged.

 

Nyssa held up her hand, stopping Sara once more. Felicity panted in relief.

 

“Imagine you are standing with your legs akimbo,” Nyssa said. “There is a string attached to your belly. At the end of the string is a stone. You cannot move your feet. Lift the string. Use your belly and lift the stone from the ground.”

 

It took Felicity a moment to get her bearings. Seeing a dangerous look from Nyssa, she knew the pain was about to begin again. She nodded for a second, then inhaled deeply—tightening and lifting her stomach muscles.

 

“She’s doing it,” Sara reported, eyes closed like she could feel Felicity around her dildo. “Keep going, Felicity. You can do it!”

 

Felicity did, again and again. Each time she lifted the stone, Sara thrust into her. The more practiced the motion, the rhythm became, the deeper Sara pushed into Felicity’s clenching passage. She sawed into Felicity’s asshole as rhythmically as a musician, plunging into places within Felicity that she had never known existed.

 

Felicity’s jumbled thoughts were resolving themselves. Taking shape like hot iron cooled by water. The plunges still hurt, but she could make them feel good. She was degraded and helpless, but she could take pleasure in that. She reared back to meet Sara’s thrusts, hearing a low-pitched moan in reply, and there was a pleasure in giving in—participating in this thing. It wasn’t being done to her, she was part of it, she was doing it to herself though Sara.

 

She moved her soft ass in winding little circles, picking up imaginary stones by the dozens, encouraged by Nyssa’s contagious zeal, Sara’s gasping enjoyment. And she kept feeling things deep inside herself. It wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. It was a real sensation—impossible, but real. Nerve endings were beginning to sing. Muscles were beginning to clench. Felicity tried to remember if a woman could orgasm from being sodomized.

 

“She loves it,” Nyssa said, hands clasped behind her back to keep herself from grabbing Felicity by the hair and forcing her gaping mouth to Nyssa’s hungry cunt. “Give her what she loves, Sara.”

 

With a groan and heavy breathing, Sara pulled her dildo all the way out, all the way to the very tip, then shoved it desperately inside. Felicity screamed, but there was no pain left in her voice.

 

With hard, unending thrusts, Sara battered Felicity’s quivering buttocks. Felicity was skewered, split right down the middle, not caring about any of it, anything but the velvet feeling pushing sickly hot through the pit of her stomach. She could come like this, Felicity realized with a catch of her breath. She just had to work at it.

 

“Yes, yes,” Sara chanted, voice like an old door creaking open, trying not to come even as her clit rasped against the harness of the dildo, as her lover watched her fuck another woman, as Felicity Smoak’s ass gave itself completely over to her.

 

“Deeder! Harper!” Felicity gasped, trying to say she would prefer their coitus be more hard and deep, not quite managing.

 

Sara and Nyssa’s eyes met. A look that had made Sara moisten in the middle of conferences with deadly warlords, a look that could have Sara leaping up from her death-bed to pleasure her lover, a look that across a crowded room could make Sara reach down into her pants, clasp herself, and finish right on the spot, simply because Nyssa was asking it of her. Even without words.

 

It was more than enough now.

 

Sara let go of Felicity’s thighs, clawed her fingertips to Felicity’s hipbones, grabbing cruel new purchase on the hacker’s body. It hurt Felicity and she wanted to be hurt. Sara made one last thrust, slapping the base of her harness against her pussy as the dildo was driven to the furthest point. The muscles there grabbed hold and sucked, Felicity’s entire body sucking on the pleasure Sara had brought her, a feeling she had never felt before, a different, deeper set of nerves and muscles broadcasting feelings that were brand new.

 

Sara and Felicity came together, locked together like two statues in counterpoint, before Sara collapsed over Felicity and Nyssa inhaled, breathing in the aroma of their pleasure.

 

“Wonderful,” she exhaled, resting a hand on Felicity’s bowed head. “Welcome to the League of Assassins, initiate. Hope you enjoyed your first day.”


	4. Chapter 4

Laurel looked over the docket of cases she’d have to make. The first one was of a serial arsonist. It came with pictures of his three victims.

 

She’d gone into work that morning bearing a smoothie with the smoothie dumped out and vodka filling the Styrofoam container instead. She’d been smart; that was enough to keep her on an even keel through the work day. But now, she knew she’d need something more.

 

Sara watched from the neighboring rooftop as Laurel reached into her desk drawer for the half-empty bottle of scotch she kept there. It’d been full at the beginning of the week.

 

Ever since she’d returned, she’d been checking in on her sister. She loved seeing Laurel. Just not like this.

 

***

 

Any friend of Ollie’s is a friend of mine. That’s what Thea had said to her when she gave Felicity free drinks for life at Club Verdant, though she was canny enough to know Felicity was something of an unsocial drinker. She drank the occasional vodka tonic because it was better than talking to a lot of people.

 

What Felicity didn’t know was that taking Thea’s offer meant she had agreed to be Thea’s BFF, Thea not being the kind of girl who had female friends. At all. And so, as the club closed and the workers scurried about cleaning the place before locking up, Felicity was drafted into being Thea’s sob sister. Like she could figure out her own emotions, let alone Thea’s.

 

“I just can’t believe him,” Thea repeated, putting another dent in her own alcohol supply, one for herself and one for Felicity. “All I’ve been doing is being caring and supportive and what does Roy do? Kisses someone! In the stockroom!”

 

“Well, was it a boy?” Felicity asked, gingerly picking up her shotglass. “Because, you know, it’s not your fault if it’s a boy. Some boys are born gay, you can’t make them that way. I’m really sure of that.”

 

“ _It wasn’t a boy._ God, I want to get back at him so bad! But what am I supposed to do? He’s already poor! And my family kinda already blew up his neighborhood…” Thea tossed her shot back. “Still doesn’t give him the right to cheat on me!”

 

Felicity followed suit. Like always happened when she had one too many, her mouth got away with her. This was why, knowing how she talked when she was completely sober, Felicity didn’t drink often.

 

“You know what I did once when my boyfriend cheated on me?” Felicity asked rhetorically.

 

“You had a boyfriend?”

 

Felicity ignored her. “We’d been dating for six weeks and for at least five of them, he’d been saying he really wanted a blowjob. I’d never given a blowjob before, I told him so, he was all ‘c’mon, baby, I’ll teach you!’ Like it’s hard. But I didn’t want to give my first blowjob to some _guy,_ you know?”

 

“Who else would you give it to?”

 

Felicity waved her off. “So then I catch him cheating on me, don’t ask how—“ It had involved her walking in on things that were illegal in many states, though apparently not the one she was in. “You know what I did? I went to his best friend. I went to his roommate. I went to his brother. I blew them all.”

 

“You _what?_ ”

 

Felicity caught herself. “I was kinda a freak back then. Dressed like Death or something. Anyway, that’s probably a bad idea, you shouldn’t listen to me about relationships. Look at my face. This cute face, still single. That should tell you about me and relationships.”

 

Thea picked up the bottle, stared at it for a few minutes as if considering Felicity’s words. Felicity was about to tug on her sleeve when Thea capped the bottle and put it away, having hit some internal mark for how much alcohol she could consume. One Felicity wished she had. Thea went upstairs to her office, to rest up on the cot there.

 

And Felicity, distinctly woozy, went downstairs to gear up for the night’s vigilantism. Maybe Oliver’s island herbs would help with seeing pink elephants.

 

***

 

Laurel left the DA’s office with a slight wobble, like one of her legs was underinflated compared to the other. Sara watched, worried, waiting. Only two blocks away, a street hustler noticed Laurel trip on the curb. He took out his cell phone and made a text. Sara memorized his face. If this was what she suspected it was, he’d be receiving a visit from the League of Assassins shortly.

 

A street later, a black van pulled in front of the tipsy Laurel. Three men piled out, tasers, rope. Laurel threw a brawling punch, managing to knock the teeth out of one surprised man. Sara moved in for the others, jumping down from a fire escape, moving in with batons. _Ta-er al-Asfer._ She didn’t like to think of them as weapons. They were tools. She disassembled the first man, dodged the second, Laurel watching in a burly haze. Eyes wide open, astonished—sober, almost.

 

The first man was dispatched, the second quickly followed, but Sara hadn’t noticed the man Laurel had punched out. He jumped to his feet, swinging a tire iron before Sara had even turned to face him. She went down, blood smearing her golden wig.

 

Laurel lashed out again, cursing “Fucker!” as she drove one of her pumps into his genitalia. The third man joined his compatriots on the ground and the fourth man, waiting in the driver’s seat, decided to cut his losses and speed off.

 

Laurel noted the license plate number, forgot it, then woozily took stock of the situation. Her three attackers were unconscious—fit for the hospital. But so was her rescuer. And she couldn’t just bring in the cops. They’d arrest this woman, this—beautiful woman who’d saved her, who’d saved so many others if half the reports she’d read could be believed.

 

Laurel thought fast, if not particularly well. She helped the dazed Canary to her feet, whipping off her coat and throwing it over her to hide the distinctive leathers. There was nothing she could do for the Canary’s mask—much like with the Arrow, she couldn’t afford to know that secret. She took off her hat as well, putting it on the Canary’s head and pulling it down to hide her eyes. Then she dragged the Canary to the main road, knowing the blonde was fading fast. Luckily, a taxi pulled up before the Canary was totally gone. Laurel was able to load her into the backseat just as Sara went totally black.

 

***

 

After a catnap, Felicity just had to hack the city with a hangover. After five hours, Oliver, Roy, and Diggle called it a night, so she was able to get out of the basement—just now realizing that that was a pretty offensive place for them to stash their resident computer genius. What, she couldn’t hack from Oliver’s office at Queen Consolidated?

 

The moment she stepped back into the club, Nyssa was on her. Backing her up against the shut door, taking off her glasses, then kissing Felicity’s eyelids with gentle presses of her lips.

 

“Nyssa! What’s gotten into you?”

 

Nyssa hummed. “Sara’s off being a white knight. It pleases me to do this. And it advances my plans.”

 

“What pla—“ Felicity broke off as the very tip of Nyssa’s tongue traced over her eyebrows. She had no idea why that felt good.

 

“Very nice,” Nyssa smiled. She caught Felicity’s chin in the crook of her hand, her thumb opening Felicity’s mouth. “Now let’s try it on the lips.”

 

Her own eyes closed as she kissed Felicity, tenderly, lovingly, leaving her shuddering with affection. God, Felicity needed a boyfriend. Girlfriend. Well, technically she had two girlfriends, but she needed at least one who wasn’t a master assassin.

 

“And now I’d like to do that to your teats,” Nyssa said, parking her glasses back over Felicity’s clear eyes.

 

“My what now?”

 

“ _These,”_ Nyssa explicated, pulling Felicity’s blouse up over her breasts. She held it, hiked up to Felicity’s shoulders, as she leaned down to gently kiss and nibble and lick and suck through Felicity’s bra.

 

“Ohhhh—“ Felicity breathed. “ _Those_ teats.” She unconsciously arched her back, urging her tits forward for more of Nyssa’s tender treatment. Then she peeled her blouse off altogether.

 

Nyssa smiled to herself. As much as she enjoyed the contest of wills that was a relationship with Sara, her equal, her perfect match, she did so love to just _take_ Felicity. She left Felicity’s bra before her teeth totally demolished it, kissing down to Felicity’s navel, tonguing that, then unzipping her skirt, knowing Felicity would need no more coaxing. Indeed, Felicity barely even needed a second to step out of her skirt and lower her panties for Nyssa’s perusal.

 

And as Nyssa’s hot tongue slipped inside Felicity, and the hacker’s deep moans filled the room, Nyssa knew there was no way Thea Queen wasn’t watching, having been drawn to the area by a series of decoys Nyssa had planned.

 

***

 

Thea strongly considered the merits of lesbianism.

 

_I wonder how I’d look with short hair…_

 

***

 

Sara came to reluctantly, cursing herself for being so stupid, an assassin getting laid out by a simple thug. At least she was alive—comfortable and unbound, her costume and mask undisturbed. She wondered who had rescued her, Ollie or Nyssa. Which would be worse—Ollie getting judgmental about how she would get herself killed, doing exactly what he did, or Nyssa being smug, mocking, teasing, until Sara exploded into something rough and… disciplinary.

 

The Nyssa thing sounded better, but the days Nyssa would spend being insufferable first…

 

Coming fully awake, Sara realized it was neither. Her head pounded, and when she raised her hand she felt a bandage gracing her temple, but even through the dwindling mental fog, she knew where she was. Laurel Lance’s apartment.

 

“Good, you’re awake.” The sister herself got up out of the chair at bedside, standing over her. The icy remnants of a jack and coke nearly sloshed out of the glass she was holding. “I was worried you had a concussion—“ Laurel slurred the difficult word, “then I would have to take you to a hospital… but first I would have to get you out of those clothes… out of that mask… into some of mine… it woulda been a big mess. This is a lot easier—thanks for waking up!”

 

Sara looked down at herself, pulling up the sheets of Laurel’s bed. She’d had sleepovers under those sheets, watched dumb movies with Laurel, ate ice cream. Now she was back and Laurel didn’t even know.

 

Her only damage seemed to be the shiner on her cranium, but Laurel had taken the liberty of removing her jacket—and her pants. Sara guessed she had tried to go through with the plan of hiding her identity from the hospital, but become discouraged. Probably by the need for a drink, Sara thought, smelling her breath as Laurel leaned in close.

 

“I just want you to know,” Laurel said, “that I know I tried to arrest the Arrow and there were all those guys—with the guns—you know, you were there. You had that little… ghetto blaster ball. But now, I know that you’re a real hero! You and the Arrow, you saved me! You saved the city! Lotsa times! I just wanted ta thank you.”

 

Sara tried to lower her voice as far as it would go—wishing she had her disguiser, but it was on her belt, and that was on her pants. “No thanks are necessary.”

 

“But it is!” Laurel protested, getting even closer, putting her forehead against Sara’s.

 

Sara wondered how Laurel could possibly not realize she was talking to her sister—though, judging from some of the empty bottles on the floor, Laurel might not know she wasn’t talking to the Arrow.

 

Laurel continued looking deeply, unknowingly, into her little sister’s eyes. “I said such awful things about you… I blamed you for Tommy’s death. And you’re just trying to help. When have I ever helped anyone? I’m such a—“ Laurel sniffled, “fucking loser!”

 

“No, you’re not!” Sara protested, working hard to keep her Angie Harmon act going. “You’re a great attorney. Maybe you made some mistakes, but everyone’s made some mistakes. I killed some people.” _Probably shouldn’t have said that to a law enforcement official._

“You’re so nice.” Laurel patted Sara’s leg, very close to her panties. “I have to make it up to you. Let me make it up to you… show you how much Starling City appreciates its heroes!”

 

Sara felt hands in her panties, pulling them down. She was so confused, she actually thought someone else was in the bedroom with them before realizing it was Laurel doing it. Her eyes grew into saucers. She realized what Laurel was doing—and also, somehow, how sexy Laurel was, how good she looked in dishabille, her jacket off, her bra off, her blouse partially unbuttoned, her skirt tight across her hips and ass. The flesh underneath it all moving sensuously out-of-step with the clothes, as if they were about to come off.

 

Sara unthinkingly shuffled her legs, allowing Laurel to pull her panties off her feet—looking at Laurel as she never had before. Seeing her and finding it impossible not to think of sex, the sex coming off Laurel in waves, the sex suggested in her slightest movement, engrained in her husky voice. Even her hair, falling off her shoulders in auburn waves, seemed to whisper sex.

 

And Sara was aroused. Powerfully, potently aroused.

 

“Laurel, we can’t do this, I’m your…” Sara broke off. She couldn’t tell Laurel she was still alive, it would raise far too many questions, put her in far too much danger.

 

But Laurel was more than willing to pick up where she left off. “You’re my hero!”

 

She crawled onto the bed, over Sara’s motionless legs—not kicking at her, not getting up so she could leave, just lying there as Laurel padded up them. Laurel’s nostrils flaring as she smelled what Sara knew to be her own arousal. Breathing hard, Sara looked down at her own cunt. It was wet. Like she was following Sara’s gaze, Laurel lowered her face, down until her lips touched Sara’s labia. Then her tongue, experimental, inexperienced, touching the seething folds, catching the damp hair between her lips and pulled at it, nuzzling her nose into Sara’s clit…

 

“Oh God!” Sara breathed. “This is wrong, we can’t--!”

 

“Not like I’m seeing anyone,” Laurel said, her lips endlessly, savoringly working upon Sara’s cunt. “Everyone I’ve seen is dead. ‘Cept Ollie. But he used to be dead. You’re not dead, are you Canary?”

 

“Not…” Sara gasped. “Not lately.”

 

“Good. I’d hate to break a taboo _oooo_.” Then Laurel leapt forward with her tongue.

 

Sara was shocked by her big sister’s willingness—her sluttiness. Then, amazed.

 

Then, pleased. She knew she should be feeling revulsion, shame, guilt, so many negative things, but all she felt was how good Laurel’s tongue was. When she closed her eyes, there were liquid firecrackers of color on her eyelids—that’s what the sensations exploding between her thighs felt like.

 

Helplessly, Sara felt her mind split. One side only experiencing what Laurel was doing to her, as good as anything Nyssa had subjected her to. The other seemed to be watching her from afar, seeing Sara writhe as her big sister laid down with her own wet, yielding thighs as a pillow.

 

Why? Because she was her sister’s sister, and she still remembered sharing a room with Laurel as children. Seeing Laurel grow tall and beautiful, admiring herself in the mirror, Sara never able to envy her, just love her. They had always loved each other, always given each other the extra bit of love they’d needed but never been able to get from anyone else. On a subconscious level, Laurel wanted her sister back, wanted that love back, and so did Sara.

 

That love felt too good to put an end to.

 

“Faster, faster!” Sara urged, her own voice slipping out, but Laurel not seeming to notice. If she did notice, her only reaction was to obey.

 

It was just what Sara needed. A canary’s cry started in her throat, trilling out of her as she raced toward her climax, Laurel’s tongue lashing about inside her as if punishing her for the incestuous joy she felt. Sara came with all her pent-up fury and still Laurel labored, grinding her thighs together inside her tight skirt, her panties shredding wetly. Sara trilled to pull away, but Laurel ignored her, totally immersed in the heat and taste of Sara’s fulfillment, the rush of juices to her lips.

 

As she came, her pleasure turning to a burning, aching thing, Sara felt a stab of sudden guilt. Even if she was alright with doing this, Laurel wasn’t. Laurel had no idea who Sara really was. And Sara had taken advantage of that ignorance, allowing her own sister to enter into this incestuous act without a care in the world. Screwing her eyes shut, Sara confessed “Laurel, I’m your sister!”

 

The cusp of fulfillment welled up in Laurel. With a shuddering sigh, she released Sara. “I feel the same way,” she said, smiling at her newfound friend as she straddled her face, forcing her dripping cunt to Sara’s open mouth. “Solidarity!”

 

***

 

Felicity rushed home. The one advantage of being Oliver’s secretary was that she kept the hours he kept. She’d sleep through drawn, get up in time for the evening’s work, then the nightly superhero stuff—who knew, if she kept managing her time so well, maybe she’d even start a social life.

 

After having changed into her pajamas, Felicity nuked an old carton of KFC mashed potatoes in the microwave, wishing she had some gravy to go with it. Salt would have to do. She started the livestream of Sailor Moon Crystal on her laptop, grateful that one of the five languages she spoke was Japanese, and was just about to give into the urge to sing along with the theme song when there was a knock at her door.

 

Felicity closed the laptop hurriedly, propped it against the wall, hid the mashed potatoes under it. Not many people bothered her at home. She was guessing it would be Oliver, and even if it seemed like most of the time they were competing over who could be the most socially awkward, she just didn’t want him to have a certain idea of her when he could have another idea of her. Like, ‘let’s give that woman orgasms’… maybe.

 

Felicity opened the door. Wrong Queen.

 

“Hey Phe,” Thea said, having apparently decided she could invent a nickname for someone else.

 

“Thea… hi.” Felicity looked her over. Thea was wearing a minidress that looked like a T-shirt and stockings that looked like lace. On Felicity, that’d look like a Halloween costume. On Thea, it looked like she was trying hard, but not too hard—more like it was effortless. Because she was rich and pretty.

 

Felicity’s pajamas had a rainbow on them. Her mother’d given them to her.

 

“This is my apartment,” she said. “What are you doing at my apartment… if you don’t mind me asking? About my apartment? And you being in it,” she added as Thea stepped inside.

 

Thea shut the door behind her. “I was just thinking about what you said.”

 

“You shouldn’t, I say a lot of things, most of them are just… not good.” Felicity shut her eyes. “Like that. _Should not_ have said that, many of things I say are good. I have great self-esteem.”

 

“You know what I’ve really never done?” Thea stepped closer to Felicity. “I have never fucked Roy up the ass.”

 

“Oh. Well. A lot of guys don’t go for that. Not gay guys, obviously, but you said he wasn’t gay and you’d know, right? Well, I guess if you were dating a gay man, then you’d be the last to know…”

 

“I’ve also never had lesbian sex.” Thea stepped right up against Felicity. “Sex with straight girls doesn’t count, obviously. I mean real, vegan cupcake, adopted kitten, _lesbian sex.”_

“Oh, me!” Felicity squeaked. “I’m not a lesbian! I mean, I haven’t checked lately, but the last time I did check, I was straight. Mostly straight. I know a lot of hot guys.”

 

“I saw you with that chick in Verdant.” Thea smiled off-kilter. “Getting eaten out right up against the wall, _that’s_ what I need! Not Roy lying to me…”

 

“But if we had sex, wouldn’t I have been lying to you about being straight?”

 

“I’m ready.” Thea opened up her purse. Inside was a banana—oh, wait, _no it wasn’t._ “I spent five hundred dollars on this. It’s as close to fucking a black guy as you can get while being a white lesbian. Ever been penetrated, Phe? I know a lot of you lesbians haven’t.”

 

“Uhh…” Felicity thought of exactly what had happened with Nyssa and Sara. Talking about that seemed about as good an idea as mentioning Oliver on a salmon ladder. “No! I am unpenetrated! Like a… pencil sharpener. That’s me… my vagina…”

 

“Good!” Thea reached under her little dress, dropped her panties. Oh, _kay,_ that was Felicity’s boss’s little sister’s vagina. She stepped into the strap-on instead. “Just think of it, Phe. Me telling Roy that if he’d just been a good boyfriend, we were going to have a threesome with him, but since he was a _cheating asshole_ instead, we’re going to have a threesome by ourselves. _I’ll be the cock._ Besides, what else am I gonna do, fuck the DJ?”

 

***

 

Nyssa watched from the closet, her video camera working seamlessly, capturing every moment, every sound as Thea began to touch Felicity—whisper to her—taste her.

 

It was surprisingly sensual. She’d have to show the tape to Sara later. Her sweet canary would never have any fun without her.

 

***

 

Sara instantly forgot the fire Laurel had started between her thighs, the onrush of guilt she’d felt, in sudden need to satisfy her lovely sister. She parted Laurel’s labia with her lips, clutched her buttocks in callused hands, an ache growing in her throat that could only be satisfied by the taste of a woman. She closed her eyes, took in a deep breath.

 

Laurel’s body tensed, feeling on a spiritual level the time of the final onslaught. She wondered if this was love.

 

Then Sara plunged, her tongue going deeper and deeper and deeper into the taste so much like her own, sucked from Nyssa’s fingers or off her wet lips. A ripple of joy went through Laurel’s body, so hard that Sara felt it, and she was so happy to bring Laurel something good after stealing her boyfriend, putting her through her own false death. She needed to do more, she needed to make Laurel happy.

 

She found Laurel’s clit at the end of her tongue, teased and worried it with all her mouth, applying all she’d learned from Nyssa al Ghul on her oldest friend in the world. Every switch of her tongue was mirrored by a spasm in Laurel’s body, her big sister clawing and babbling, finally brought low by her junior. Her hips undulated, rocked back and forth, pleading their desire to be brought past the verge of orgasm.

 

Sara reached up, ripping Laurel’s blouse open, finding her breasts with her kneading hands. They felt as good in her palms as Laurel’s cunt did around her tongue. With pure singleness of purpose, Sara rammed her tongue deep, wanting to embed the sensation of her fiery-tipped tongue in Laurel’s furthest depths.

 

“Now!” Laurel cried, hands tangling in Sara’s hair, trying desperately to pull Sara closer to her burning need, closer through a last half-inch that simply didn’t exist. “Now, now, oh sweet Jesus, _NOW!”_

She felt something explode inside her, the exploding thing burning as it worked its way around and around her cunt, orbiting Sara’s spectacular tongue, finally coming out like rainfall from a black cloud, dousing Sara with the liquid excess of a dam breaking. Laurel threw her head back and shrieked out all her pain and suffering, let it be washed away with her orgasm, crowbarred off her bones with writhing spasms. Until finally, she felt back onto the mattress, flat on her back.

 

 _That,_ Laurel thought dimly, _was better than a shot of jack at the beginning of a three day weekend._

Then she felt something tickle her wrist. Slightly cross-eyed, she raised her head. Saw a bright blonde wig in her hand. She looked over at the Canary, wondering if that wonderful woman could tell her where it might have come from, and saw tousled, dirty blonde hair sprouting from the Canary’s head like weeds that had overtaken a garden.

 

No, wait, it wasn’t the Canary, that was clearly her sister Sara, wearing the Canary’s mask. Laurel opened her mouth to ask where the Canary had gone, what Sara was doing not being dead—and her mouth hung open. She realized.

 

 _Oh God,_ she thought to herself, _my sister’s a fucking lesbian!_

 

***

 

They fell to the couch, kissing breathlessly, Felicity helpless to resist as Thea ripped her pajamas out of the way. Like the threesome with Sara and Nyssa wasn’t enough, like losing her anal virginity wasn’t enough, like Nyssa using her for cheap sex wasn’t enough, _now_ she was Thea’s side ho too?

 

Thea stuck her tongue in Felicity’s ear. Moaning, Felicity decided she could get used to it.

 

“Say goodbye to virginity, little nerd,” Thea quipped, working the tip of the dildo into Felicity’s dampening pussy.

 

_Girl, you have no idea._

Thea drove the silicone shaft deep; like a hammer striking an anvil it seemed to send out a vibration. Felicity shuddered with it, letting out a sharp cry, her nails sunk into Thea’s asscheeks. She trembled even harder as Thea rolled her hips, rode the dildo inside Felicity deeper and deeper. It was bigger than the one Sara and Nyssa had used, filling her pussy with silicone as well as mind-blowing sensations, seeming to stretch her wider than she’d ever been before.

 

“Welcome to being a slut!” Thea cried happily, her tight ass rising and falling writhingly between Felicity’s open thighs. The hacker squirmed around under Thea, ass digging into the sofa cushions, hair tangling under her twisting head.

 

“I don’t think it counts as a slut if it’s your very first time,” Felicity muttered, clinging to Thea with all her strength. She didn’t know much about sex, but she did know that if she kept the dildo inside her, it would keep feeling good. “Which this is, my very first time, I certainly haven’t had lesbian sex before—I mean, with a dildo—“

 

Thea ignored her, finally managing to work the hilt of the dildo up to Felicity’s labia, the blonde breathless by now. She expressed her joy only by moaning, groaning ecstatically, grinding her body into the thick silicone shaft that seemed to run the length of her. Sparks were flying in her cunt as the ribbed shaft pushed inside her, seeming to touch every nerve in Felicity’s pussy at once. Thea’s sweaty hips thrust in sharp exercise, driving her strap-on in and out of Felicity. Their breasts pressed tightly together. Their sexes met around the dildo.

 

“Don’t you love being a slut more than being a virgin?” Thea laughed.

 

Felicity was bucking her ass off the sofa, getting the strap-on inside her. “Oh, yeah, this is definitely better than being a virgin, which I was…” She squeaked almost as much as the sofa was, both being rocked by Thea’s hard thrusts.

 

Thea drooled from her mouth as much as her cunt, displaying the price of the humping she was giving Felicity. The harder she drove the dildo into Felicity, the harder the base dug into her own mound. Soon, she was practically slumped atop of Felicity, delirious with feeling, panting heavily into Felicity’s ear as the blonde held her tight.

 

It was Felicity that took Thea’s face in her hands, pulled her mouth into range and filled it with tongue. They kissed like they fucked, hard and fast, moaning and groaning. Until Felicity pushed Thea back, knowing what it would take to make her come.

 

She rolled onto her belly, reaching behind herself and spreading open her ass. “Fuck my ass. You have to fuck my ass right now, Thea, I can’t wait!” She heaved her hips up and down, begging for Thea to join in their rhythm. “Up my ass, _fuck it up my ass, I CAN’T WAIT ANY LONGER!”_

She reached down, one hand holding her anus exposed, the other riling her clitoris, rubbing at her twat, fingering herself as Thea watched in shock.

 

“I really did make you a slut,” she muttered. “Goddamn, I knew I’d make a good lesbian.”

 

“Fuck me!” Felicity cried.

 

Thea climbed between her legs, put the cockhead between her buns. Separated the flesh with her hand and tucked the tip of her dildo into the small brown hole. Felicity groaned as she was finally filled.

 

“Okay, like that, like that, that is definitely the way you should fuck me!” Felicity closed her eyes, picturing her own body, the size of the dildo, the equation to fit it inside of her. God, it might fuck into her bowels… she didn’t care. “Fuck me so hard I’ll never forget!”

 

Thea did, watching in amazement as the shaft of the dildo followed the tip, disappearing in Felicity’s resisting ass. The pressure against her own clit was like a perfect loving touch, soft but firm.

 

“Fuck me… if you want…” Felicity gasped, blissfully tortured by how her ass stretched wide to accommodate the strap-on.

 

Thea gripped her narrow hips, shoved forward, pounding Felicity’s ass. She loved the moans she was causing. It was so much better than a man’s grunts or dirty talk.

Felicity rolled her hips, jabbed them back, her asshole stretched to the limit, but her body still fucking the oversized cock. It was wonderfully hard, wonderfully big, and she loved every stiff inch of it.

 

“It’s never felt so good before!” Felicity gasped through clenched teeth. She rammed herself back, gulping down cock right to the root. “You’re the best I’ve ever had!”

 

Thea was entranced, watching with wide eyes Felicity skewer himself time and again on the dildo. “That’s cuz you’re a virgin, silly,” she said absently.

 

“Oh, yeah, right…” Felicity’s voice was thick with desire. “Just… do it nice and slow. Tease the hell out of me. Then ram it right in.”

 

“Okay, alright…” Thea eased back, Felicity’s asshole slow to give up the dildo, quick to swallow it when she shoved forward, losing it in Felicity’s trembling body. The pressure against her clit came to a boil, subsided, left her tingling all over.

 

“Just like that, just like that!” Felicity trembled, barely able to hold still as Thea set the slow, tortuously slow pace.

 

She pushed back in, watching in near-amazement how Felicity’s valley opened, how her asshole gobbled up the cock it was fed. Thea’s eyes blazed with desire. It wasn’t long before she picked up speed.

 

“Yes, yeah, _like that!”_ Felicity wailed, eyes wandering back in her skull. “I love being fucked like that!”

 

Thea shoved every hard inch inside, the tremendous shove sending lightning ricocheting back into her own pussy. She jerked her hips from side to side, making Felicity cream across her pussy hair, down her legs.

 

“It’s so damn good,” Felicity said.

 

“It’s great!” Thea replied.

 

“It certainly is,” Nyssa said.

 

“Wha… who the fuck are you?” Thea demanded, seeing Nyssa step out of the closet, naked unless you counted the camera she was holding.

 

Nyssa primly sat down at the end of the couch they were occupying. She caressed Felicity’s cheek before forcing her face down to her lap. Felicity’s tongue became like a small animal seeking sustenance, nuzzling into Nyssa’s labia, then into her sex, finding heat, tightness, pleasure.

 

“You… you were fucking Felicity at the club!” Thea realized. She tried to pull away from Felicity, but her ass was too tight—fucking her felt too good. She found herself continuing her pumps into Felicity, even as the hacker ate Nyssa out.

 

“Yes. I thought that might give you… ideas. And now I have you on tape.” Nyssa held up the camera. “2160p. 4K video. It’s practically in 3D.”

 

Thea forced herself into Felicity harder, growing anger driving her on. “I’ve been in worse.”

 

“Fucking your brother’s little girlfriend? On camera? With your mother running for mayor? No, I think this dirt won’t wash easily away.” Nyssa petted Felicity’s hair as the blonde turned ravenous, devouring everything Nyssa fed her. Nyssa’s only response was a coy smile. “You’re mine now, Miss Queen. My key into the Queens. If I need anything from you, or your brother, or your mother, your father, I merely have to turn you.”

 

Knotted up in frustration, Thea pounded into Felicity, crashed into her like a speeding car, Felicity moaning, overwhelmed, into Nyssa’s sex. Nyssa watched her, eyes discerning, approving. Felicity’s hands were at her pussy, her clit, desperately trying to keep up with the pleasure Thea was giving her.

 

And Thea was a woman possessed, her anger at the situation, her desire for Felicity, even the sight of Nyssa and the look of open sexuality the assassin gave her, it was too intoxicating a mixture to resist. She threw herself into Felicity one last time, the base of the dildo kissing her cunt, an echoed murmur against Nyssa’s sex the only utterance. Both she and Felicity had come, and Nyssa would’ve as well, if only the simultaneous orgasm hadn’t knocked Felicity out.

 

Nyssa let the blonde snore on her thigh as Thea pulled out of her. Her bitch looked like she could use a nap.

 

“Just so you know, my family’s been through worse than a little sex scandal.” Thea took the dildo off and threw it aside like it was hot coal. “So if you try to get me to do anything that’ll hurt me, _or_ my mom, or anyone in my family, my _city_ for that matter, then you might as well release that tape now, because I am not my mom and I am not going to let you harm anybody.”

 

Nyssa nodded. “If I needed that firm a grip on you, I’d have that firm a grip on you. No, I only require a little swaying from time to time. A slight give and take. Aside from that, there’s no reason our relationship can’t be mutually beneficial.”

 

“Mutually beneficial, huh?” Nyssa really was a good-looking woman.

 

“Yes.” Nyssa got up, substituting a cushion for her lap. Felicity yawned and cuddled up to it.

 

“I notice you didn’t come.” Thea bit her lip. Nyssa did have her in a bind already. What did she have to lose. “What would you expect from a virgin, huh?”

 

“Yes. Quite.” Nyssa stepped forward, stopping in a stance with her legs slightly apart. “Perhaps you should show me what someone… more experienced… is capable of.”

 

It wasn’t long before Felicity was awoken by a long, shrill, triumphant cry.

 

She went into work that evening tired and hung over.


End file.
